There is a crisis in male fertility. But you wouldn’t know it from the way many men act | Elle Hunt

Womens rarely get the chance to overtake our biological clocks: their starting, slowing down and stopping. I remember talking about wanting children with my mother when I was six or seven years old. Now that I’m 32, my friends are having kids and debating having them, or dating hoping to have the option.

My girlfriends, that is. My impression of the men in my life is that they don’t think about children at all, but assume they will happen ‘someday’, or wait for the decision to be made for them – by their partner or by circumstance. Their declining fertility – something that women are made aware of from an early age – does not seem to play a role in this.

That’s despite what has been described as an “urgent, global” sperm count crisis – or, even more memorably, “spermageddon”. The average sperm count worldwide has fallen by half over the past 50 yearsand even steeper in the past twenty years. Several possible reasons for this have been suggested environmental pollutants to an inactive lifestyle and the use of technology such as smartphones. But we’re still not really sure what the driving force is, and we’re leading a consortium of international experts call to action last year.

This is not a new problem, but there remains a shocking disconnect. Despite these known threats to male fertility, the vast majority of focus on infertility – by governments, health services and couples – is on women. The male partner is solely responsible in about 20% of infertility cases, and is a contributing factor in another 30% to 40%. Often male and female infertility can coexist. Yet it is overwhelmingly women who bear the burden of family planning, the social stigma of urgent action, and the stress, and even trauma, of infertility treatment.

Research into the causes and treatments of male infertility is chronically underfunded and is seen by research bodies as falling within the purview of the booming fertility industry – but extensive R&D is focused on women. In about 25% of the cases where heterosexual couples had difficulty conceiving, the man did not undergo any evaluation at all.

It shows how – to quote the title of the article in which I discovered that disturbing fact – “male infertility is a women’s health problem”, under-researched by scientists, neglected by the industry and largely ignored by men themselves.

It’s hard not to feel frustrated by the shocked reaction that’s common among men in their 30s and older to a woman they’re dating or even enjoy bringing up the subject of children. And his hard not to be furious by the number who date women ten years younger in the hope (whether unconsciously or not) of postponing the conversation.

In today’s sleazy, commitment-phobic dating culture, I’ve noticed you even express that not The desire for children to be able to scare men away – not because they’re confident they will, but because they haven’t really thought about it and (to put it less charitably) want to keep their options open.

It’s not entirely men’s fault: unlike women, they have not been socialized under the specter that their fertility will “fall off a cliff” after a certain age. For many, the subject may only come up twice: first at school, in the context of learning to prevent pregnancy and then, at a much later date, when it is presented as a real possibility.

But men’s complacency about the quality of their sperm, and their reluctance to seriously discuss whether they want children until it is forced upon them, exacerbates women’s individual struggles, as well as fundamental inequalities in our approach to family planning.

It also ignores the very real risk that – when the stars finally align to become fathers – that their swimmers won’t be as robust as they think they are. Yes, men’s fertility declines later than women’s, allowing them to ponder the question longer, but no one is immune to the effects of old age.

When we try to count the time left on our fertility clock, we often point to examples of famous people who had children into their 50s and beyond – but you are no more Mick Jagger than I am Rachel Weisz. Without knowing the truth about their “fertility journey,” celebrities’ late-life success stories should not be taken as evidence of the time frame we all have to work with, but of their significantly greater resources.

It’s encouraging to see signs of increasing awareness of the male fertility crisis, led by start-ups like Jack Fertility and ExSeed (which offer at-home sperm testing) and by men with personal experience like Ciaran Hannington and Shaun. Greenaway, hosts of The Male Fertility Podcast. Since 2020, fertility and family planning have also become part of statutory sex education in secondary schools, with teaching materials recently co-developed by the British Fertility Society.

But it will take decades to undo the pernicious belief that family planning is a women’s issue, and perhaps even longer for men to feel equally involved. In the meantime, here’s what everyone should know, based on my conversations with fertility experts:

Women’s fertility peaks at age 20 and shows a marked decline after age 35, when the risks associated with pregnancy and childbirth increase.

Men also experience reproductive aging, with people over the age of 40 being about half as fertile as those under the age of 25. Drinking, smoking, an unhealthy lifestyle, medications, exposure to heat and toxins, and steroid use can all hasten the decline.

Children of older fathers, meanwhile, are at increased risk for birth defects, health problems such as cancer and mental disorders such as schizophrenia and bipolar disorder.

“My most important piece of advice?” concludes family planning researcher Tanja Tydén. “If you know you want children, don’t wait too long.”

Women may not need any further reminders, but men might do well to remember: you can bury your head in the sand.